Playing With Fire (Kindle Worlds Novella)
Page 7
“I was talking about the playground we installed at the Josten’s school in…”
She knew her smile was stretched across her lips, but Alan didn't seem to notice. Instead of looking at her he had turned his full attention to Roman.
“Can I help you?”
She knew she had to look. It wasn't that she wanted to. No. It was because her oldest friend seemed determined to stand there staring at her until he got her attention.
So with one last steadying breath, she leaned back in her chair and raised her gaze to Roman’s face. “Yes?”
She almost winced at the cold edge in her voice, but she needed him to go away. Roman was most definitely blocking her efforts to get well and truly laid.
“Fin,” he leaned his head toward the door, but she didn't move. In fact, she leaned further back in her chair. “We need to talk.”
“I,” she calmly replied, “am talking. To Alan.” She gestured to the man across the table from her. “So if you want to talk, Roman, you can call me later and -”
“I want to stop you from making a mistake.”
That got Alan’s attention, and he didn't like it. “Look, man, the lady told you to call her later.” He stood up, unfolding himself from the chair until he was shoulder to shoulder with Roman.
Well, almost shoulder to shoulder. When they'd been standing together beside Abby, Alan had looked like just what the doctor ordered. Muscular, handsome, and strong. But standing there beside Roman, Alan was a few inches too short to really get that wow factor.
"Finley, please." Roman reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, his long fingers touching the bare skin over the neckline of her blouse, and damn she felt it all the way down her spine, straight to other more interesting locations, further south.
“I don’t know if you noticed,” Alan’s tone was soft, but he made his point with the look in his eyes, “but Finley was talking to me.”
She wanted to agree, to put her hand on Roman’s chest and move him away, but something inside of her knew it was too dangerous. Touching him, when her body was already starting to hum with electricity might electrocute them both. The simple gesture might complete some kind of energy circuit and send them flying back onto their backsides, or even worse, make them burst into flames.
So, she agreed, no touching. She only had one option left. “Go away, Roman.” She hoped she didn’t sound as pitiful as she felt, but given the looks on both men’s faces, she hadn’t succeeded. “I’m talking to Alan.”
Roman looked over the other man and shook his head. “Not tonight.” Turning back to her he only leaned closer until she felt the heat of his body through her sleeve. “Not ever.”
That was it. The one tiny drop of testosterone that was the tipping point. Alan pushed his arm between them, his elbow hitting Roman with a thump. “Back off, caveman.”
Roman’s answering glare had Finley off of her chair and shoving Alan’s arm down as she wedged herself between them, Roman at her back. She gave Alan a look, trying to get him to understand something she couldn’t. “It’s okay.”
She felt Roman’s hand cup her hip and damn, but her body told her it was a good thing even when her mind wanted to swat it away.
Alan began to say something, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. “Just give me a minute, okay? Let me talk to him.”
His answering look was a mix of frustration and resignation. In the end, Alan walked away and Finley could feel Roman gloating behind her back, she could also feel the hard length of his body pressed against the curve of her backside.
She turned on him, looking up into his face.
He looked down at her, his eyes an open challenge like a red cape to a bull.
“Who knew,” she grumbled at him, “that Roman Brady, all around good guy, gets off on acting like a jerk?”
#
He heard the snap of anger in her tone and it put the brakes on his own rush of frustrations and the heavy pulse of blood through his veins. “What?”
“You ruined it!” She picked up her beer and took a long drink from the bottle.
“Him…” His collar itched, but he kept his hands down at his sides, “you wanted to have sex with him? You can’t be serious.”
“Yes, I can…” He heard the push in her tone and knew that part of her reticence was habit. Finley had always had an independent streak a mile wide. When her father told her she didn't measure up she always went out of the way to prove him wrong. “And I want to... I really need to, but with you standing around acting like my nanny, you're scaring away all the possibilities.”
Her glare was meant to back him off, but it had the opposite reaction. Roman felt his skin flush with anger, heat prickling across the back of his neck.
“If they're so easily scared, they don't deserve you.”
She sat back on her chair with a laugh. “I'm not asking them to fend off a dragon, or get down on one knee, Roman. I want a man to take me over the edge, I want to stop thinking and I want to feel.” She took a sip and set the glass bottle down again, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. Roman watched as she slid her hands down her thighs, and he felt his breath catch in his chest as she pressed her thighs tightly together. “And then I want to be so delightfully sore and exhausted I can't even do that.”
“Okay.” He bit out the word as blood surged through his body.
“Okay?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean… Okay?”
He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it.
She stared at his hand. “I have two of those, Roman. If all I wanted was to get off. I'd be home digging through my boxes to look for my little battery operated friend.”
He leaned closer, his larger frame blocking out the rest of the room. He brushed his cheek against hers and she felt the subtle rasp that said he'd probably shaved a little too fast. Did that mean he'd rushed to get there? “I want to give you that, Finley. I want to take you over that edge. My hands, my mouth, anything you'll let me touch you with. I want you under me, over me, anyway I can have you.”
She couldn't help the way her body reacted to the dark promise of his words, the heady scent of his skin. He was wearing cologne. It was a subtle scent, but this close to him it was intoxicating.
Finley opened her mouth to say... What? Roman was anything but ‘no strings’ and still she couldn't manage to walk away.
She doubted that she could even manage to stand on her own when his voice curled through her like a touch, promising exactly what she'd been asking for. "Give me a chance."
And then his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. A slow caress of sensation that sent shivers through her body, shaking her determination until all she could manage was a single word.
"Now."
#
Roman couldn't look at her; he had to keep his eyes on the road. If he looked at her, saw the shallow breaths that he could hear in the tight confines of the car, he didn't think they'd make it. He wanted to lay her down in her bed and make love to her for hours. He wanted to show her that this could be so much more for them than a meaningless affair.
But if he paid any more attention to the way she sagged into the seat, pressing her thighs together over and over as if she couldn't decide if she needed more or less pressure between her legs, he'd end up pulling the car over alongside the road and tumble her into the backseat.
#
She wanted him to drive faster. She needed him to floor the accelerator and get them somewhere soon, or she was going to get them into an accident.
Had it really been so long, since she'd had an orgasm? Was she so frustrated she needed a man more than her sanity?
A nagging little voice started talking about Roman and she shut it down by shifting in the seat. The friction between her thighs made her groan out loud.
She saw him flinch and wondered if he was regretting the offer.
But then she glanced down and saw the thick length of his erection pushing along the button fly of
his jeans and knew at least his body was interested in what she had to offer. All she had to do was get rid of those buttons-
Oh god buttons! This was going to take forever.
She could feel her hands trembling and tried to tangle her fingers together to keep them to herself.
The car hit a bump or a rock in the road and when she found herself jolted against the seat cushion, she moaned. “Roman?”
“Hmm.”
Maybe it was her imagination that saw his hands white-knuckled on the wheel.
But she hoped she was right. “Drive faster.”
She heard a groan and smiled. Frustration was best when it was shared.
He put the car in park and she looked over at him in shock.
Roman tilted his head toward the window as he wrestled with his seatbelt. “We’re here.”
And so they were.
Finley sprung her seat belt free first and was out of the car before Roman could complain about getting her door. By the time he caught up she was crossing the last few feet to the door, key in hand.
#
The door swung open and he couldn't keep his hands off of her. Sliding his palm down her arm he felt the way her flesh pebbled at his touch. “Which bedroom?”
She dropped her keys on the floor as she closed the door behind him. “No beds,” she ground out the words as she backed him up against the hardwood door.
He tried to take her by the shoulders, make her wait until they could talk, but she shrugged him off and reached into his front right pocket.
The sudden movement brought the side of her hand sliding along the length of his erection and he found himself trapped against the door. “Finley, wait.”
“No,” she shook her head, sending her honey blonde waves shifting like gold over her shoulders, “no waiting. I need this.”
He felt a chill settle over him. She needed it, not she needed him. This wasn't what he wanted. He reached down to stop her but she had already pulled his wallet from his pocket.
He watched her search the leather billfold with a demanding speed.
“Seriously?” She sighed and held his wallet out to him like she was thoroughly disgusted with its contents.
“Finley-”
“You don't have a condom?” She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “You offer me the use of your body and you didn't bring a condom?”
He wanted to apologize. And yet he couldn't. “I was planning on talking to you and-”
“I get it.” She looked up at him with a sweetly indulgent expression that had him mildly ticked off and yet incredibly turned on. And, as if he needed proof, his dick seemed to agree, swelling against the confines of his jeans. “You were going to rescue me from myself. You didn't go there expecting to come home with me, did you?”
“No. Yes, but-” He wasn't sure how to answer that question. He had a distinct feeling that he was doomed no matter what.
“Well if I'm not going to get the chance to have mindless sweaty sex with you,” she licked her lips and Roman was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to hear anything she said after it, because all the blood in his head rushed all the way down south, “then at least I should get a chance to see what I'm missing.”
He was fairly sure he'd lost his mind when Finley, the woman of so many recent erotic dreams, reached for the waistband of his jeans.
#
Finley couldn't help the way her hands were shaking as she struggled with the first button at the top of his fly. Her senses were on overload.
Having Roman’s hard body this close, trapped between her and the closed door, his breathing fast and shallow in his chest, was a heady and seductive thing. She needed her hands on him.
He'd always been fascinating to her. Human and warm where she was distant and often awkward. When she'd find herself withdrawing from the world, he was there to bring her back, make her laugh, get her to enjoy the beauty of nature around her. And she was planning on going a little wild.
The buttons fell away from her anxious fingers, the cold metal trailing against the tips of her fingers.
Finally, the last button gave way and she heard his pent up breath burst from his lips on a long exhale.
Sliding her fingers in between the heat of his skin and the tight elastic of his briefs, Finley hooked her thumbs into the unused belt loops of his jeans.
"Fin, please-"
She looked up at his face and couldn't help the wolfish grin that tugged at her lips. "Please what?"
He looked down at her and she felt all the air in her lungs leave in a silent rush. There was something in his eyes that she couldn't... didn't want to name. And yet she was helpless to look away as his lips parted, his tight abs trembling against her fingers.
"Please," he repeated, his eyes burning with a dark snap of fire as he fisted his hands at his sides, "don't stop."
And there it was. The answer to her prayers. The open invitation she needed.
"Okay then," she held tight to the fabric between her fingers and sank down to the floor, feeling the heavy thud of her knees against the hardwood. And that's all it took to drive all logic from her oxygen starved brain.
In her dreams since she'd returned, she had often wondered what Captain Roman Brady looked like underneath the turnout pants from his calendar photo shoot, and now she knew. She had a front row seat to anatomy that she was sure was worthy of more noble mediums than her camera. She had seen the statues created by the celebrated masters. Rodin and Michelangelo would have cut off their hands for the privilege of sculpting the naked glory that was just a few inches away.
She heard the quick exhalations that came from his lips, but she couldn't see his expression with her eyes focused below his waist. And then there was no denying what they both wanted, judging by the heavy bob of his erection and the tight pulse of need deep within her.
"Are you," his voice seemed to vibrate in the air between them, "just going to look?"
She gave him his answer. Her hands touched him, cradled him in her warm palms. Her fingers explored his length, wrapping around the base and sliding along his shaft until her finger bumped into the ridge beneath the tip.
Roman leaned against the door, the back of his head connecting with a soft thud. "Yes..." He sighed and curled his hips slightly, creating friction against her hands.
She felt him swell in her grasp and felt an answering rush of heat between her thighs. When she sat up the flat-felled seam of her jeans pressed tight against her and a gasp of pleasure burst from her lips.
#
He heard the sound and managed to lift his head away from the door in time to see her lips close around him. The warm heat of her mouth, the pressure of her fingers circled around the base, he hadn't been this close to bursting this fast since high school when-
And the rest of his thoughts escaped him as Finley's hand slid down in concert with her mouth and he felt his body tighten, so close. His abs clenched and the muscles in his backside followed suit until he was sure they'd cramp, but he felt the rub of her tongue along his shaft. It numbed his mind and sent it whirling at the same time, and he lifted a hand from the wall to tangle with the silken gold of her hair.
He didn't mean to demand anything, but he had that little control over his body. It was a silent plea and she answered it, leaning closer as his knees bent, taking more of him into her mouth.
Roman felt his heart swell and thunder harder in his chest, and he was suddenly fighting for control. "Let me touch you, Finley. Please God, let me touch you before I-"
"Bad boys! Bad boys!” The shrill ringer of his phone sang out. “Watchu want-"
Finley was prepared to ignore it, swiping her tongue against him.
"Fin..." He groaned as the COPS theme continued to blare at top volume, ignorant of the pleasure she was inflicting on him, "Finley, stop, that's Jonah. He's watching Matt."
#
The words startled her enough to get through the haze of her arousal and she pulled away, almost falling back o
nto the entryway floor, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
She watched him bend down and fish through the crumpled pants piled around his ankles, retrieving his phone just in time for the theme music to start over again. "Jonah? What's- yeah, okay. I'll be right there.” His free hand was working to pull his pants up. “Okay, put him on."
Finley watched as he shifted the phone so he could use both hands, still managing to twist the waistband of his briefs with his jeans. Silently she got to her feet and helped him get dressed as he talked to his son on the phone. It was a rush of cold water over her, turning her need to embarrassment. What kind of a mess had she almost gotten herself into?
She finished buttoning his fly as he promised Matt he'd be home in a few minutes, trying not to lean into the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder, the caress of his lips on her forehead.
And then in spite of her good intentions, she nearly grabbed a hold of him to make him stay when he ended the call.
He dropped his phone in his pocket and fished out his keys. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head and grabbed the knob before he'd even moved away from the door. "No problem," she smiled up at him. "Things like this happen."
"Thanks for understanding."
The smile he gave her threatened to melt her knees right then and there, but she held it together as he stepped outside onto the porch.
"Sure, sure..."
He reached for her but she stepped back, keeping the door between them. "I'll call you and-"
"Okay." She shut the door before she could forget that this was exactly why Roman was fully and completely off limits.
Chapter Seven
It had been a couple of days since Roman had run out of Finley’s house. The trails of tears on his son’s face was enough to make him melt into a puddle. But when the storm had passed and his friends had gone home with his thanks, he'd put Matt back to bed and lain awake wondering what Finley was thinking. Would she forgive him for running out on her?